


And Switch

by LaBelleetlaloup



Series: Forging a Pack [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Mentioned Kate Argent, POV Stiles, Season/Series 02, Sharing a Bed, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 15:07:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7645990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaBelleetlaloup/pseuds/LaBelleetlaloup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Jackson get caught in the crossfire when Victoria tries to prove to Allison that she only likes Scott because he's a werewolf. Jackson gets a brief reprieve from being the kanima. Stiles gets a stint as a werewolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Switch

**Author's Note:**

> As to the timeline - not entirely in line with canon, but for this fic, assume Derek bit Jackson, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd within very quick succession. So when the first full moon comes around, Jackson is already the kanima and Derek has three betas to corral, but it wasn't certain that Jackson was the kanima yet.
> 
> Also, Stiles has a crush on Derek that's reciprocated but Derek doesn't explicitly confirm this so I haven't tagged Underage, but be aware if that's a squick for you.

Stiles really had to hand it to Victoria. When she got mad about Scott and Allison continuing to date in secret, she really let her anger out. Unfortunately, she was not exactly discriminate about it. In addendum, Stiles would like to register a complaint that this had not been in the bestiary that Allison had given him and he would like the full compendium of knowledge. Derek and his trio of hazards were luckily all still fine. They had not been present for the attack, or none of them would be fine. Jackson, also luckily, had de-kanima-ed when he got hit with the weird dust. The idiot had fallen out of a tree, naked and confused, but only Stiles and Scott had really been at the proper angle to witness this and the poor idiot had run immediately, likely back to his house. At worst, his father would contest the fine for public indecency. Scott was fairly content, having lost his claws and extended senses like he wanted. Stiles was waiting for their next lacrosse practice and Scott’s inevitable asthma attack to change his tune. Allison, of course, had been given an antidote or immunity in advance so she was still perfectly normal. But Stiles… Stiles was now a fucking werewolf. The full moon was in two days. He may have been lying when he told Peter that he didn’t want to be stronger, faster, easier healing, still able to keep up with his best friend, but there had been a reason that the reply out of his mouth had been no. It had not just been because Stiles had seen his own reaction in Derek’s sympathetically siding with his uncle in the immediate wake of the revelation. As he had suspected, he’d been born with ADHD and it was a leftover remnant of a helpful trait, so he still had ADHD. He still flailed when startled. But now he would have claws at the end of his flails and a much shortened temper. They were walking back to his house through the woods instead of risking him being seen on the road.

“You just need to focus on Lydia,” Scott insisted. “Obviously, she’s got to be your anchor. You’ve been in love with her for years now. Just take a deep breath and focus on Lydia.” Scott coughed a bit. Too much walking and talking all at once, not enough strategic breathing. Stiles took a deep breath to try and hold back the fangs he could somehow feel itching at his gums. Lydia had always been someone whose brain he deeply admired. She had been brilliant. He had always wanted to know if he could keep up. Some part of him recognized that wasn’t what most people called love. Of course, she was attractive too, he wasn’t blind, and if it came up he certainly wouldn’t be averse to having sex with her, but Stiles’ infatuation with Lydia had always been mainly focused on her brain. What Scott had described feeling for Allison was vastly different.

Besides, Stiles had already tried focusing on Lydia for a good while with zero success. Einstein said that any further focusing on Lydia would be the definition of insanity. Stiles had also tried his mother and his father and Scott. None of them worked, but perhaps a person as an anchor had to be a romantic interest. Stiles certainly would not know. If Derek had talked to anyone about it, it had not been him.

Well… Derek had growled Isaac down on the full moon. He was an alpha. It couldn’t hurt to try focusing on the grounding presence of an alpha. Stiles took another deep slow breath, like the ones he had been taught to help come down from his panic attacks. He focused on his memory of Derek roaring Isaac into submission and the way he had felt safe with Derek coming to his rescue. Surely a feeling of safety was the point of an anchor, was it not? At the least, focusing on that relieved feeling and safety helped his temper ebb. He was no longer tempted to rip Scott’s face off for being less than helpful.

“See, there you go. Claws are gone,” Scott was smirking at him when Stiles opened his eyes. “Told you to focus on Lydia like an hour ago.” They had been crawling along at a glacial pace, so it might very well have been an hour ago. Normally it would not have taken that long to get from the strip mall downtown to his house, even walking. Stiles was too concerned about the fact neither he nor Scott had an inhaler on them to give in to his desire to just run.

“Stop being smug,” Stiles growled. He decided against telling Scott that Lydia hadn’t helped at all. It wasn’t particularly relevant. Despite the fact she had cheated on him of her own accord and his subsequent anger and dismissal, Lydia did still seem to be stuck on Jackson. So whether Stiles was interested in dating her or not was as irrelevant as it had always been, possibly more so given the fact she seemed to be going through a breakdown.

“I’m just saying, you should listen to me more and,” Scott’s lungs cut him off in a bid for more air. He stopped walking and heaved in a couple huge breaths of air. “And I’m really glad I can’t smell you right now.” Scott looked bewildered.

“If you don’t have werewolf healing then you have asthma again,” Stiles pointed out. Scott stared at him in shock. Apparently Stiles had been right and Scott literally had not realized that. Stiles took another deep breath, calling up the image of Derek’s red eyes. Again, his temper ebbed away. At some point, Stiles was probably going to have to deal with the fact that he had been almost as unable to tear his eyes away from Derek’s abs as Danny, but by god that day was not today.

“That’s why you’re walking so slow,” Scott said. This time he spoke slowly, using the breathing pattern that Stiles was familiar with him having. His words were slightly slower but his lungs didn’t cut him off in the middle of his sentence.

“We always walked this slow,” Stiles shrugged it off. “And besides, neither one of us have your inhaler on us. Better to go slow than to risk an attack. I do not want to be the one explaining to your mother why you’re being brought into the ER, especially not tonight.”

“Oh,” Scott looked like he had been hit by a truck. “Uh, yeah. So, um, how long do you think this will last? I mean, do you think it’s permanent?”

“Surely if there’s a risk of turning one of the Hunters nearby or an innocent bystander into a werewolf, Hunters would not use the permanent variation. Also, pretty sure Victoria hates you, why would she take away her only reason for protesting against Allison dating you?”

“I guess you have a point there,” Scott admitted. “She doesn’t hate me, though. Right?”

“Buddy, she’s dedicated her life to killing werewolves. I think it’s a pretty safe bet that she’s never going to like you.”

“That sucks. How are we going to do Thanksgiving and Christmas?”

Although his first retort was to ask why Scott assumed he and Allison would both be alive that long, Stiles tempered himself. “Fortunately or unfortunately, Allison will probably have moved again by then. So you’ll probably be doing a phone call or Skype.”

“No, not this year,” Scott rolled his eyes. “When we’re older, and getting married.”

“Um,” Stiles had no response for that. Stiles had read the star crossed lovers story. It did not end in marriage. There was death and tragedy.

“You’re helpful,” Scott glared at him. Stiles heard a scoff, but it clearly was not from Scott. He took another deep breath. Was that Derek’s cologne? Well, so long as it was Derek, there was nothing to worry about. He didn’t smell the tang of metal guns or the oil used to keep them from rusting, so it at least wasn’t a Hunter. “Come on, let’s just get you home so you can drive me home.” Scott started to stalk off.

“Hold on, Scott, chill. Additionally, I’m not driving anyone anywhere in this condition. You’re gonna have to bike or call your mother. I’d prefer the latter.”

“But you already know Lydia’s your anchor, you’ll be fine.” Scott was so earnest. But Stiles knew driving like this was a damn good way to wrap his car around a tree.

“Scott, I don’t know if you missed this about me, but I really don’t believe that tripe about love conquers all. So no, just because I found a way to pull these fucking claws in does not in any way make me feel like I’m safe to drive. So you can take the old inhaler I have, hope it has enough medicine in it, and bike home, or you can call your mother and she can drive you. I will be taking a shower and putting my ass in bed and hoping I can stay home sick tomorrow if it hasn’t worn off by then.”

“You don’t have to be an ass about it,” Scott griped.

“Sorry, I’m sorry. Just, don’t rush off. We can walk slow.” Stiles absolutely did not want Scott to have an asthma attack. Scott looked confused again for a minute.

“Okay, yeah, we’ll walk slow. But I’m still mad at you.”

“That’s okay. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry.”

Scott did not reply. Apparently Stiles was getting the cold shoulder. At least Scott wasn’t rushing around though. Stiles took the reprieve from making conversation to try and decide if the person he was certain he had heard was Derek or not. Whoever it was, they smelled a lot like the forest surrounding them. Then Stiles caught another wave of that cologne scent. It was definitely the one he had smelled on Derek before. He turned his head just slightly, trying to find the direction of the slight breeze and thereby the source of the scent. He caught the rustle of a bush almost in step with him and Scott. Then there was a slight scent of leather. Stiles let himself relax. Derek was here. They would be safe now.

Scott did not start talking to him again the entire walk back. But they walked slow and Scott also did not have an asthma attack. Stiles considered it a win, overall. Scott wouldn’t be mad long over something as silly as Stiles not knowing how Scott could marry a Hunter and have family holidays with them. So he dug the inhaler out of his backpack in silence and sent Scott home with it without trying too much to apologize again. He was also a little distracted by the weird scent of food gone off somewhere in his room.

Once Scott was gone, Derek let himself in the window. “What happened?”

“Victoria Argent had some sort of dust/mist thing. Scott’s lost all his wolf abilities. I seem to be a wolf. She’d given Allison an antidote. Good news-Jackson was apparently also present. He fell out of a tree naked. So I think he’s been successfully un-kanima-ed until it wears off. Also, pretty good proof that it’s him and not Lydia.”

“True,” Derek conceded. “I’ll go talk to Jackson in a bit. Now, how are you doing?”

“I am a bundle of anxiety about this mess, but I think I’ve at least been handling my temper and aggression pretty well.”

“Good job,” Derek smiled encouragingly at him. “Even though Scott’s suggestion of Lydia didn’t work, you found some sort of anchor?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded. Confessing that it had been Derek made him feel like his throat was closing up. So he didn’t.

“That’s good. Would you feel better here, in your den, or out away from your father for the night?” His father was working the night shift and would not be home until the time Stiles would normally be waking up for school.

“I think I’m fine here tonight.” Stiles thought about Scott’s sharp uptick of aggression during his first full moon. “If it hasn’t worn off by the full moon…”

“Of course, we wouldn’t want your father to be in any danger. If you have to go through the full moon, then I’ll take you someplace safe and restrain you. Keep you from hurting yourself or anyone else.”

“Safe,” Stiles echoed. Derek nodded.

“Here, let me show you how to take the claws out. It helps a little with your control.” Derek stuck his hand out, palm up. Stiles hesitated only half a second before laying his hand in Derek’s. Derek’s fingers wrapped around Stiles’ palm and his thumb dug in to the meat of his palm. Claws slid out of Stiles’ fingers. He still felt like it was a foreign object rather than a (temporary) extension of his own fingers. “There’s out,” Derek’s voice was calm and steady. His thumb moved slightly and pressed in at a different position. The claws retracted again. “And that’s in. Got it?”

“Yeah,” Stiles’ voice came out a little breathless. Derek pretended not to notice, but Stiles saw the tips of his ears redden. Stiles jerked his hand back, “Sorry, I’m sorry.” It came out automatically.

“Hey, hey,” Derek caught both of his wrists and his gaze. “I don’t know what you think you did, but you don’t need to apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I…” Stiles felt like his throat was closing up again. He shut his mouth. “I don’t know,” he muttered. He looked away, starting to pull his hands back again, at a more reasonable speed this time.

“Hey, look at me.” Stiles found his eyes back on Derek’s face before he even realized he’d made a decision to listen. “You’re going to be fine. You’ve already got a good head start and you have me whenever you need me. This isn’t a burden. I’m happy to help. Did one of those cover whatever you were having a crisis about?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Stiles nodded. He was not telling Derek that he was causing him to have a sexuality crisis. That was certainly not something that he expected Derek to help him with. It was his own problem.

“Okay, I better go check on Jackson. You gonna be okay on your own for tonight?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded again. He was turning into a bobble-head. Derek took a step and Stiles half moved with him before they both dropped hands.

“Howl if you need me. Anything at all.”

“I got it.” Derek disappeared out the window. Stiles closed his eyes and took deep breaths. He was definitely going to have to deal with this at some point and he was hoping to put it off as long as humanly possible. He definitely was interested in the male form, but he was also interested in women. Was that even a thing? Stiles shuddered. He closed his window and put it all out of his mind. He did have more pressing matters to worry about. As if on cue, claws slid back out of his fingers. “Fuck me,” Stiles grumbled.

After a brief attempt at doing the same pressure point thing Derek had done with no success, he gave up and headed for the bathroom to shower. The mirror revealed that he had pointed ears and sideburns, but Stiles had managed to retain his eyebrows. His eyes were glowing blue. Huh. Stiles had thought that was a born wolf thing since Derek’s had been blue but Scott’s were gold. And it definitely wasn’t related to the wolf’s natural eye color, because Stiles’ eyes were as brown as Scott’s. He could ask Derek about it later. He had offered to be there and Stiles had this feeling that given the general way his life went that this was not going to have worn off by morning. Well, at least he had noticed that werewolves run hotter so he’d legitimately have a fever when he tried to stay home sick in the morning. He would just have to hope that he wasn’t enough hotter to really freak his dad out and end up in the hospital. Stiles grimly resolved to sue Victoria to cover the hospital fees if her little stunt with Scott, probably intended to prove to Allison the only reason she liked him was that he was a werewolf and therefore forbidden, landed him in the ER with a panicked father.

Stiles managed to get clean enough that he smelled clean to himself. He had been distracted from the smell before he got in the shower, but then he could smell all of the sweat and pheromones and everything he had touched all day on his skin. Stiles was not used to it and he did not like it. He barely stopped himself from scrubbing his skin raw. He did not stop himself from soaping up and rinsing off four times and shampooing three times. At some point his claws had receded again and there was no more blue glint on the tiles from his eyes. It was nice to get out of the shower and see his own reflection. He tossed his clothes in the hamper and pulled on a pair of boxers before trying to scent out the source of that weird food smell he had noticed earlier when Scott was leaving. It took a few minutes, but Stiles emerged from under his bed triumphant with a nearly empty bag of chips with gross crumbles in the bottom. He tossed that in the bathroom trashcan so it at least wouldn’t still be in his room all night.

Stiles suddenly felt hit with the weight of what had happened. He was a werewolf. A Huntress had done this to him because he had not been important enough to her to warrant her consideration in her attack on a werewolf. That werewolf happened to be his friend and thus far his only crime was dating that Huntress’ daughter. Stiles had scoffed at the idea of the dust being permanent earlier, but Victoria had made certain to give Allison the antidote prior to exposure. Scott would most likely be happy that he was no longer a werewolf, even with having to deal with asthma again. Jackson would be glad he wasn’t a murderous lizard and no one was showing him up during lacrosse anymore. But Stiles? If this was permanent, it was a damn good way to guarantee that he never recovered his relationship with his father. They had been strained because of the lies from keeping Scott’s condition secret. If Stiles had to keep his own condition secret… Stiles fell back on his bed with a drawn out groan. He had claws again.

Stiles lay staring up at his ceiling for a long time, his worries spiraling. A tap at his window interrupted his thought process and he jolted upright. There were red eyes on the other side of the glass. It was only Derek. Stiles flailed out of bed and opened the window.

“Sorry, let me get something on,” he was muttering as he got out of the way so Derek could climb in. Stiles pulled out a pair of sweats and a clean tee and hurried dressed. He did not want to be nearly naked. He looked up to find four other bodies tumbling in behind Derek.

“I hope you don’t mind…” Derek smirked and shrugged. It was a little too late for Stiles to mind that Isaac, Erica, Boyd, and fucking Jackson were in his bedroom in the middle of the night.

“Uh, it’s fine?” Stiles’ voice rose up at the end, making his statement a question. “Did… Why?”

“I thought we could use whatever time we actually have with Jackson being human to try and bond as a pack.”

“Oh, and since I didn’t warrant any of Victoria’s concern, that includes me for the foreseeable future.”

“Basically,” Derek nodded. He was still wearing the smug, cocky look. Stiles did not remember Talia ever looking like that. But then, she had worn confidence like it was her skin. Maybe Derek’s performance of confidence was just less believable to someone who had seen him while he’d been omega and nearly desperate for an alpha figure.

“So, what, exactly, happened to you?” Erica sneered. Stiles deeply regretted the crush he’d harbored on her the year before. He bared his teeth, feeling the shift from human to not quite right.

“Stiles, don’t make threat displays. Erica’s not a threat,” Derek chided. Stiles closed his mouth and looked down.

“No, seriously, though,” Jackson said. For once, he sounded sincere. He looked deeply shaken, rather than wearing his usual cocky persona. “What did she do to us?”

“Some kind of dust in a mister spray gun. Very demeaning and embarrassing. Let’s not talk about it again.”

“I am so fine with that,” Jackson muttered. “So, um, when you were saying that I’m the kanima…”

“Yeah, dude, looks like you can’t play ostrich anymore.”

“This sucks.” Jackson was spot fucking on there. Stiles nodded emphatically.

“Well, what are you complaining about?” Isaac snapped. “You get to be a werewolf for a few days. What’s to complain about?”

“Don’t start with me,” Stiles muttered.

Derek interrupted before either of them could escalate. “I purposefully had a discussion with all of you before I bit you about the potential drawbacks. Stiles did not want to be a werewolf because of them and that’s a valid decision. He’s entitled to be upset about someone changing his species not only without his consent but in an attack on someone else that he was only collateral damage in.” Isaac looked sufficiently rebuked. Stiles felt his now slightly less metaphorical hackles lower.

“So, what are we doing?” Jackson asked. Stiles wondered if he had been equally unenthused at the prospect of spending the night alone with his thoughts and jumped at the prospect of a distraction.

“Ooh, let’s play spin the bottle!” Erica suggested with a sultry pout.

“No,” Stiles insisted. “We are not playing any stupid sex games in my house. I categorically refuse.”

“Unfortunately, I gotta agree with Stilinski here and that might be a sign of the apocalypse, Erica,” Jackson added with a teasing smile.

Stiles scoffed, “Surely not, we’ve had the same taste in women for years now.” Jackson looked like he wanted to argue but then conceded with a nod.

“Fair enough.”

“I was thinking something more along the lines of having a pack discussion. A person becomes a kanima by having some sort of disconnect with their wolf or pack.” Derek paused. Stiles got the feeling he was leaving some things out but now was probably not the time to press.

“So you want us to like talk it out?” Jackson did not look impressed.

“Group therapy can be very helpful for some people,” Stiles pointed out. “Don’t knock something until you’ve tried it. Also, try to keep in mind that I don’t think it being certain that you’re the kanima over Lydia changes Derek’s ethics about killing you before you can kill any other innocents.” Jackson shuddered.

“Okay, bring on the mushy sappiness. Who wants to start?”

Derek chuckled at his beta. “How about we all get comfortable first?” Derek shrugged out of his leather jacket, dropping it on the desk chair, and kicked off his shoes. He then sat down on the floor. At least everyone wouldn’t be crowded on Stiles’ bed. The betas followed suit. Stiles also sank to the floor. “Alright, anyone got something they want to get off their chest?” There was general silence.

Stiles at least did have some familiarity with sharing personal information with near strangers. “I personally would like to submit that Erica looked just as attractive last year and I don’t appreciate being hit in the head with car parts because I didn’t openly ogle her breasts.” Erica’s mouth fell open. Derek shook his head.

“Teenagers. Erica, I really do think now might be an appropriate time to offer an apology.”

“I’m sorry I tried to murder you,” she mumbled, still looking completely flabbergasted.

“How many times did I try to ask you out last year?” Stiles demanded. “You kept ignoring me or turning it into like an actual studying thing. We didn’t even have the same classes second semester! There is no possible way you didn’t know I liked you.”

“Those were supposed to be dates?” Erica still looked bewildered.

“Jesus you weren’t kidding about our tastes overlapping,” Jackson muttered.

“No, no I was not,” Stiles agreed. “And yes, Erica, those were dates. I asked you out to dinner, the movies, coffee, a romantic stroll in the park, mini-golf! Like most of those are standard obvious date activities. I invited you out to a standard date activity, asking if you would like to go with me, there was no one else invited, and I offered to pay. Where in the world did you miss that they were dates? I got dressed up! That one time I brought you flowers!”

“I had really low self esteem!”

“Had?” Isaac snidely remarked. Erica turned bright red.

“Don’t be an asshole,” Derek snapped.

“Stiles should give a toast at your wedding,” Boyd suggested. “By then it’ll be a funny story.” Erica flushed slightly differently, looking over shyly.

“You think so?”

“Sure,” Boyd shrugged. Huh. Apparently Erica had a thing for Boyd. Who would have known?

There were no more shocking revelations, at least from Stiles’ perspective. His father might have attributed that to him being more nosy than most. Slowly they dropped their sarcastic and caustic defenses. Eventually Isaac opened up about being conflicted over his father’s death, Jackson admitted that he had never recovered from finding out he was adopted, Boyd confessed that he still felt guilty about his little sister’s death. Stiles did not manage to say much of substance about his mother’s death and the toll that lying to his father was taking on him, but he did manage to say something. Derek said even less about his own traumas, but he was probably still trying to present as a strong leader figure. He was the Alpha, after all.

As the conversation wound down, Stiles piped up to offer the use of his guest room. His father probably wouldn’t notice and even if he did, Stiles having friends over on a school night would be a relief in terms of Stiles disappointing him. Erica and Boyd and Jackson all said they had to get home to their parents. Isaac had no parents but he insisted that he wanted his own bed. They all tumbled back out the window. Derek paused for a few seconds to tell Stiles not to close his window. Stiles agreed. He was a werewolf now and could likely handle anything that tried to let itself in.

Stiles had turned off all the lights except his bedside table lamp in anticipation of going to sleep. But his brain started back up without any distractions and he fell back into his reflective thoughts with everyone gone. He really did hope that this helped Jackson enough that he did not turn back into the kanima when the dust wore off. He was only a teenager. He didn’t deserve to die. Stiles had been about to spiral back into his worries about lying to his father when Derek climbed through his window for the third time in one night, this time without any other betas.

“I thought maybe you’d rather not be alone?” he suggested quietly in answer to Stiles’ confused expression.

“I was just going to not sleep and have an anxiety spiral,” Stiles scoffed. Derek nodded sympathetically.

“I know this wasn’t what you wanted.”

“Surely it can’t be permanent, though.”

“I would be surprised with the statistical likelihood of accidents and the hard line on suicide if a Hunter gets bit.”

“That was my thought,” Stiles nodded.

“You wanna try to get some sleep?”

“Yeah. You’ll wake up in time to hide when my dad gets home, right? I was planning on staying home sick from school at least for tomorrow.”

“I don’t sleep well anyway. That shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Good,” Stiles nodded slowly. “So…”

“Bed?” Derek finished the thought for him. He kicked off his shoes and shrugged out of his jacket and peeled off his shirt and jeans. Stiles had just half a second to notice that the man had underarmour rather than normal boxers. Abort thought process! Then he started herding Stiles towards the bed. Stiles forced himself to strip off his shirt and sweats as he moved. From the times he had had Scott sleep over, he knew full well that two human males worked up enough body heat even sleeping that attempting to wear pajamas was not a viable option for two male werewolves. Derek, of course, took it all as a matter of practicality and seemed to have no reaction to Stiles’ near nudity. Stiles was trying for the same non-reaction and praying that any uncomfortableness that Derek noticed he would attribute to them still being fairly unfamiliar with one another.

“Do you have a preference?” Stiles found himself asking as he crawled onto the bed. Derek made a small sound of confusion. He looked completely bewildered. “What side of the bed you’d rather sleep on? If you’d rather be near the window or want your nose facing the room…”

“Oh,” Derek sighed out as understanding dawned. “Just sleep where you normally do. I’ll find a spot to get comfortable.”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed quietly. He typically slept in the middle of the bed, since he didn’t have to share. But normally he’d end up nearly on the edge by morning, so he settled a little more to the left, pulling his favorite pillow towards him and straightening the other one out so Derek could use it. Derek huffed in amusement at him and then climbed over him to get to the other side. Stiles tried not to react to the proximity. Derek was trying to be nice, to be a responsible alpha, and there was no need to stink pheromones all over him because Stiles was having an identity crisis. Derek flopped down on the bed and wriggled his way under the covers. Stiles stifled both his giggles and the dog jokes on the tip of his tongue. “Oh God!”

“What?” Derek bolted up hurriedly, leaning over Stiles in concern. Whoops.

“I’m a dog joke now.”

“Goddamn,” Derek’s body deflated in relief. “I thought it was serious.”

Stiles grinned up at the older man. “This is serious,” he insisted.

“You are such a little shit.” Stiles was still grinning up at Derek because he looked more amused than angry. Derek’s eyebrows moved in a way Stiles couldn’t parse before he laid back down. “Let’s get some sleep. Turn the lamp off.” Stiles followed orders without thinking about it. Huh. Was that because he was [temporarily!!!] a werewolf and Derek was an alpha? Was it because of his anxiety insisting that if he wasn’t acquiescent enough everyone was going to leave him alone forever? Honestly, the best guess was probably because Stiles had semi-successfully used Derek as an anchor. That was not a flippant thing for werewolves. Turning off a lamp was not really a cause for concern though. So Stiles settled back down.

Derek shifted around with his pillow a bit before seeming to find a comfortable position. At any rate, he stopped moving. Stiles also froze though. This comfortable position was Derek facing Stiles on his side, a long line of heat down Stiles’ entire body. After a moment, Stiles turned his back to Derek. For approximately half a second, he felt better. Then Derek’s arm reached out and tugged Stiles in closer, so that their bodies were pressed together. Derek’s forehead landed on one of the divots of Stiles’ spine at the base of his neck and Stiles could feel his breaths against his skin. For some reason it was more comforting than distressing, having an apex predator at his throat.

“This alright?” Derek muttered. Stiles had this feeling that if his senses weren’t enhanced, he wouldn’t have heard it, only felt the rumble of Derek’s chest. Stiles just nodded, not trusting his voice. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Stiles paused, “Alpha.” Derek shivered. Stiles kept his mouth shut. Derek did not open his either. Eventually, the awkward moment passed and they both fell asleep. Having Derek at his back was far more comforting than Stiles ever remembered having Scott in his bed having been. Maybe it was a werewolf thing.

The following morning, Stiles woke up suddenly, a line of heat at his back, a warm hand spread on his stomach, and the scent of coffee and gun oil in his nose. There was a bit of light from probably the doorway. “Oh…” his father’s voice said. Stiles felt Derek stir behind him but he also pretended to still be asleep. He continued quietly, probably thinking aloud because of how tired he had to be, “Kid needs to stop deflecting with serious topics. I knew this was going to happen eventually and I was going to have put my damn foot in it. At least it’s just a secret boyfriend he’s been covering up. You had me worried that Allison girl had gotten you and Scott into drugs, kiddo.” Stiles felt Derek huff into amusement. Stiles decided it was time to acknowledge he was awake. He stretched out and mumbled sleepily. Then he blinked at the doorway, where the hall light was illuminating his dad.

“Morning?” Stiles offered tentatively. “Um…”

“Kiddo, you gotta know I love you no matter what.” His dad made his way into the darkened room carefully but quickly, bending down beside the bed. Stiles glanced over to ascertain Derek’s face was still hidden. He had scooted a little lower and the blanket covered his stubble.

“Yeah, Dad, I know… I just…”

“I know your anxiety messes with you head, but you can’t set yourself up like that. You knew I would assume you were just deflecting. If you’d brought it up seriously…” His dad trailed off with a sigh. Stiles nodded glumly. At the time, it really hadn’t been at all serious. And now he would be stuck with this lie and his dad was going to want to know who this was and how long it’d been going on… Fuck! “Alright, you know I’m exhausted. You’re not fully awake. We’ll talk after you get back from school.”

“Uh…” Stiles really didn’t want to go to school today. “Dad, the reason he’s here is because I was feeling super sick last night. You were working and I know you’ve got that murder case. I didn’t want to interrupt. I think I might still have a fever.”

“Well, at least I haven’t completely missed everything.” His dad huffed and pressed a hand to his forehead. “Yeah, you do feel like you’ve got a temperature. You really shouldn’t have contaminated him too, but at least you had somebody here with you.”

“He’s got a pretty good immune system,” Stiles replied.

“Okay. I’ll write you a note after I sleep. I can write him out if he needs it.”

“Thanks, dad.”

“Yeah, kiddo. Oh, what’s his name?” Stiles’ brain went completely blank.

“Samuel,” Derek offered. His voice was tenor enough that it did not immediately set off age gap alarm bells.

“Okay, Samuel. Nice to meet you. I’m gonna head to bed. You two get some more rest. You heard that I’ll write you a note if you’ve caught whatever Stiles has?”

“Yes. Thank you, sir.”

“Of course. Goodnight, kids.” Stiles’ dad carefully picked his way out of the room and closed the door. Stiles turned around to hit Derek, who startled badly.

“You said you’d wake up!”

“I thought I would. I’m sorry. At least he doesn’t still think you’re on drugs?”

“But we aren’t dating! I have no boyfriend. And at the time I totally was just deflecting!! That’s a lie too.”

“I am sorry about that.” Derek had the decency to sound sincere.

Stiles huffed irritably. “Sure you are. Now I’m pissed but also still tired, so I’m going back to sleep. Get your arm off me.”

“Stiles,” Derek whined, even as his arm retracted at whiplash speed. Stiles immediately felt cold as Derek pulled away from him. He sighed heavily.

“Nevermind, I’m cold. Get back here.” Derek made a pleased sound as he snuggled back up to Stiles. “I’m still pissed.”

“You’re entitled,” Derek assured him, sounding not at all concerned about the matter. “Get some more sleep.” Stiles grumbled a little, but followed orders.

The next time he woke up, Derek was already awake, tapping at his phone, but still lying in bed with Stiles. The sun was fairly high in the sky, meaning it was at least midmorning, but Stiles probably still had a few hours before his father woke up. Stiles was sort of cradled by one of Derek’s arms and his one side was smushed up against Derek’s chest but Derek’s attention was on his phone. Stiles could feel himself flush at the implied intimacy of the position.

“Good morning,” Stiles muttered sheepishly.

“Don’t worry, it’s only 10:30,” Derek replied easily. “Isaac was concerned when I came back over here and then you weren’t in school. Thought there’d been an accident.”

“He probably has some anxiety too.” Stiles hadn’t really meant to say that aloud. Derek paused though. He looked away from the phone and at Stiles.

“Do you have any idea how he’d handle the suggestion of maybe trying a therapist?” Derek looked and sounded honestly concerned. He was trying so hard to be a good alpha with such a shitty situation and such frightened betas. The Argents alone or the kanima alone would be an uphill battle for any brand new pack, Stiles was positive. Both at the same time?

“Unfortunately, Isaac and I aren’t that close. So I don’t know. But typically a good way to approach it is as non-confrontational as possible. Don’t accuse him of having anything. It could put him on the defensive. You could frame it as seeing a grief counselor. His dad just died. That’s a fairly normal thing, unlikely to make him feel like you’re saying there’s something not right about him.”

“Yeah. I don’t want him to feel rejected. That’s not only a horrible feeling, but it can be dangerous for a beta to feel rejected by their alpha.”

“Is that what you weren’t saying about kanimas last night?”

“Uh, not really? That can be a factor too if I remember right. But I think I would have legitimately had to reject him. I wasn’t saying that I’m pretty sure that I remember it being about a personal identity disconnect.”

“Like Jackson going from a pretty normal kid, admittedly really athletic, but normal enough, to a teen movie jock stereotype after he found out he was adopted?”

“Did his parents tell him that late? He was saying it really stuck with him last night.”

“Well, I can’t be certain. But he was normal enough in elementary school from what I remember. We were civil. Not close friends but we wouldn’t be upset to be out on the playground at the same time doing the same game.”

“Yeah,” Derek nodded encouragingly.

“And then in middle school, like the middle of that first year-he was on the rec league swim team with me and it had the younger kids on the same team-, he just suddenly switched on a dime. It wasn’t like, oh he hit puberty and gradually changed as his testosterone levels went up. It was really quick. And he still hasn’t levelled out. He’s a junior, you know. So he should have levelled out some if he was going to.”

“True. And most guys get the sudden increase in hormones a little later than that. But if he got it then, he should have levelled out by this many years later. That is odd.”

“Please don’t bring me up if you mention it to him. He really doesn’t like me now. We are not really any level of civil.”

Derek shushed him. “I won’t. I promise.” That had been easy.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. So you awake? I didn’t want you to wake up alone and your wolf freak out.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Stiles nodded like a bobblehead. “Thanks for that. With my dad asleep down the hall…” Derek nodded just once, with a small smile. He pulled his arm out from under Stiles and climbed out of bed. Stiles absently watched him move for a moment. Then he shook himself – oh he was such a dog joke now! – and sat up to get dressed before he remembered he was playing sick.

“Stay in bed,” Derek reminded him needlessly. Stiles nodded again. He was a bobblehead dog joke. Derek smiled at him again, made certain he had grabbed all his things, and left out the window. Stiles laid in bed, staring at the ceiling for a second.

“Shit, I have to pee.” He swore he could hear Derek laughing through the open window. His dad would be asleep a few hours yet. Stiles rolled out of bed and closed the window before heading to the bathroom to relieve himself.

After a brief internal debate, Stiles decided to put on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt and park himself on the couch. That way he’d at least not be in bed when his father woke up and wanted to talk to him. Stiles pointedly did not think about how he was going to deal with the inevitable conversation. He turned on TVLand and an episode of BeWitched was playing. Stiles let Elizabeth Montgomery distract him. That episode had finished, the entirety of a Lucy episode had finished, and the introductory song was playing for Petticoat Junction by the time his father came downstairs.

“Feeling any better, kiddo? Hungry?”

“I could eat.” Stiles was starving. He hadn’t wanted to wake his father and he was supposed to have had a fever that morning preventing him from going to school so cooking was not something he should have felt up to. So Stiles had barely eaten. His dad looked around the living room before heading into the kitchen.

“Your boyfriend feel up to going to school, then?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“If he just headed home, that’s fine. I’m sure his parents wouldn’t like him staying over indefinitely, especially if you gave him whatever bug you caught. Stomach bug or head cold?”

“I don’t know. I just felt awful. But I wasn’t nauseated.”

“That’s good. Eggs sound alright then?”

“Use the olive oil to keep the pan from sticking! It’s better for you. And don’t put cheese in them.”

“Who’s the dad?” he called back jokingly. “So… this tub of yellow stuff in the fridge, that’s your olive oil, right?”

“Dad! Your cholesterol levels were high and your job has been really stressful these last few months!” Stiles knew he sounded whiney when he got like this. But his dad was just about all he had left in the world. He could not lose him. Of course, now Stiles was a dog joke and an actual whine came out of his throat.

“Aw, kiddo, I was just teasing. Don’t cry!” His dad poked his head back into the living room, brandishing the bottle of olive oil. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t feel good. They really weren’t as high as you’re making it out. The doctor said I just needed to be a little more active.”

“Not really a desk job right now, huh?” Stiles tried to smile, but it wasn’t funny. Their sleepy town had turned into CSI murder central.

“No, kiddo, not really,” his dad smiled reassuringly back at him. “Alright. I’ll scramble us up some eggs and be right back.”

“Okay.” Stiles let the television distract him while his dad made them breakfast for lunch. After a few minutes, he came back out with two plates of eggs and toast-some of the whole wheat bread Stiles had picked up on the last grocery run that was supposed to be better for you.

“No cheese, and only a minimal amount of butter on my toast.”

“I guess that’s okay,” Stiles agreed. He got a few moments’ reprieve while they ate. But then Stiles had scarfed all his eggs down and his father’s plate was nearly empty as well.

“So… I came home this morning and some boy I’ve never met or heard you talk about was in my house, in your bed. That is not how that meeting should have gone, Stiles.”

“I know that. I didn’t plan for him to stay overnight.” Stiles had told Derek that he was fine by himself for the night. Derek had invited himself back in.

“How long has this thing been going on?”

“I don’t…” Stiles felt his throat closing up again. He took a deep breath, abandoning the thought of trying to make up another lie. He just kept breathing.

“Come on, breathe for me. That’s right. Nice and slow… In and out…”

Stiles got hold of himself again. “Sorry, I just…”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pushed that. I heard what you said right after I left the room.” Stiles gawked up at his father. “Yeah, I heard that wasn’t your boyfriend. I was wondering how far you’d let me bumble along.”

“I just… I wasn’t awake. I didn’t know what to say.”

“So. Who was that? Is his name really Samuel?”

“I think that’s his middle name,” Stiles admitted.

“Okay. Who was in my house last night?” Stiles opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out. “Really, Stiles? What about this one: why was he in your bed?”

“It wasn’t a sex thing!” Stiles managed to squeak out.

“That’s a relief,” his father muttered drily. “What’s going on with you? I can tell you don’t feel good. You look awful. But not sick even though you’re running hot. There’s some stranger in your bed.”

“He’s not some stranger!” Stiles insisted hotly. Well. And there went his temper. Stiles took some deep breaths, focused on the way he could still smell Derek on his skin. The anger ebbed out to a manageable level.

“Is he a hobo drug dealer? You get a discount if you give him a bed to sleep in?”

“No! No one is taking drugs!” Stiles paused. “Well, I’m sure some people take drugs. I’m still taking my Adderol in the recommended dosage. But Scott, Allison, and I aren’t taking drugs. At least, I assume Allison doesn’t take drugs. She’s never mentioned anything about it.”

“So if it’s not drugs, then what? You’re not involved with these murders, even though you’ve put me in the position of having to consider it with all the lying and sneaking around, because you’ve got alibis and no ties to crime scenes. So what is it?”

Stiles stared back helplessly at his father. There was no way he would believe him if he told him the truth. Werewolves sounded like the worst kind of deflection.

“Kiddo, I am trying here. You’ve gotta give me something to work with.”

“I know that.”

“I’m coming up empty. He’s not your boyfriend or a sex thing but he’s wrapped around you like a barnacle in your bed on a night I’m not home til morning. You claim there’s no drugs or crime involved, but you can’t tell me what it is. I don’t even know what to start worrying about at this point.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Just his name?”

“I don’t think it’d make you feel better.”

“Just lay it on me. Can’t we just get one thing out in the open between us?”

Stiles folded in on himself and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t lie to his dad anymore. It was too much. “Derek Hale.”

“WHAT?!” His father’s plate went flying out of his hands across the room. Contrary to popular belief, Stiles had not inherited the flailing from his mother. She had been very graceful. At some point his father had learned to control the shock reaction unless it was a really bad shock.

“I’m sorry!”

“Dear God, so help me, if that man put his hands on you!”

“No!” Stiles’ eyes burst open and he sort of lunged towards his father in protest. “I wasn’t lying. Not a sex thing. I promise.”

“Not just because you know as well I do that you’re two years under the age of consent in California?”

“No,” Stiles crossed his arms. “Because it’s true.”

“Didn’t… maybe it was just me, but I could have sworn that you accused that man of murder not a couple months back.”

“I backed Scott up.”

“Aw, crap.” His dad dragged a hand over his eyes.

“We neither one of us realized that the body in the woods was his sister. And Scott said he had evidence. I believed him. His evidence was really not nearly as solid as he thought it was.”

“Okay. We didn’t find any substantial evidence of him being involved either. I’m glad you weren’t fixated on the idea. But how in the world did you go from accusing him of murder to him sleeping in your bed without me even knowing you’d ever spoken to the man?”

“Pretty positive that’s not gonna happen again. Derek’s not slept here before. It’s not a thing. It was once. Not even coincidence yet.”

“Why was it even an incident?”

“I’m honestly not entirely positive. I mean, I was having an anxiety spiral so I wasn’t upset about the company, but he sort of invited himself.”

“You’re not dating?”

“No.”

“So are you friends?”

“I guess so.”

“Were you having a conversation and he got concerned so he invited himself over to make sure you were okay?”

“Uh. Well… it sounds kind of weird.”

“I think you just need to tell me.”

“So I was downtown with Scott and Allison yesterday evening. And then Allison’s mom came storming over, her family doesn’t like Scott at all, and dragged Allison home. But Allison was our ride. So Scott and I walked back. And we had a little argument. Hopefully he’s over it. I mean, how long can you stay mad over me not knowing how you could do holidays with your girlfriend’s family when they hate you? And Derek overheard us so when Scott headed home, he came up and asked me if I was alright.”

“It sounds almost like he was stalking you. What route did you walk home?”

“Well, it was getting dark so we walked back through the woods. We didn’t have on any reflective stuff so I was worried about cars.”

“Cars are probably a bigger threat than the possibility of an animal attack.”

“That was my thought. And Derek sort of hangs out in the woods a lot. I think he just happened to be in the same area. Not like weirdo stalking.”

“I feel so much better,” his dad grumbled. Clearly he did not feel any better at all.

“I told you it wouldn’t help.”

“You were right.”

“I am sorry.”

“So how did he end up staying the night? This grown man comes up and invites himself into my house while I’m not home. Then how did he end up in your bed?”

“He’s not really that old. He was younger than Paige, remember?”

“Grown man in my house.” His father glared at him. “In your bed?”

“Um.” Derek had gone to Jackson, brought the whole pack to Stiles, and gotten them all home safe before coming back and herding Stiles into bed. “It took awhile to walk home anyway. So we were talking for a bit and then it was late.”

“And then this grown man just happened to trip and fall into your bed with no shirt on?”

“Obviously not.”

“So what happened?”

“He said he figured I’d rather not be alone. He wasn’t wrong.”

“So he invited himself into your bed half naked? Do you have any idea how inappropriate that is?”

“Dad, I swear it wasn’t sexual. Two men just produce a lot of body heat. It was practical half-nudity.”

“Practical?” His father was still glaring at him. “I’ll show you practical. Did you see how he was wrapped around you like a barnacle?”

“He had been sleeping! Some people cuddle in their sleep. It’s totally a normal thing.”

“It’s a normal thing for pedophiles!”

“Dad.”

His father took a deep breath. “I’m calm.”

“One, I’m past puberty so the word you’re looking for is ephebophile. Two, I’m quite certain Derek’s not interested in some teenage kid six years younger than him. He has other issues, like grieving his murdered family and now his sister and the death glare eyebrows, but that really doesn’t seem to be a problem of his. Three, please keep in mind my first cousin, your only niece, was his first serious girlfriend-he probably just feels like he should keep an eye on us for her.”

“That reminds me: have we gotten the save the dates for her wedding yet?”

“Not yet. Should be soon. They said the wedding would be in July and those are supposed to go out a few months in advance. But it’s barely March.”

“I really think you should be more careful. He’s a grown man. He has no business hanging around with teenagers, much less inviting himself to spend the night in their bed.”

“He doesn’t have any friends his own age. Derek should have been graduating college this May. So all his friends from high school are still off at school.”

“That does not mean he needed to fixate on teenagers. He could hang out with people a little older than he is. Maybe get a job.”

“He just lost his sister in January. He’s in no position to be trying to navigate job interviews or make friends with total strangers.” His dad had no immediate rebuttal for that one. They were both quiet for a long moment.

“I will try to give him the benefit of the doubt. I won’t arrest him if he doesn’t do anything else. But he will not be in my house when I’m not home. He will not be sleeping here no matter if I’m home or not, or if he’s in the guest room. He’s a grown man; he has his own bed at his own house. You will not stay over at his house overnight under any circumstances or for any length of time if it’s just the two of you. You will give him less benefit of the doubt, do you understand me?”

“I understand.” Stiles was still spending the full moon with his alpha. His father’s safety was too important to risk for his father’s worries.

“Good.” His father looked over at the television. I Dream of Jeannie was coming on. “Oh, turn this up. This show was always funny.” Stiles slowly reached for the remote and turned up the volume. So, that was possibly the most surreal conversation he had ever had in his life. Hopefully he was not going to have to go through anything so traumatic for a long time. Oh right, he was a dog joke and the full moon was only a couple days away. He had so much to look forward to.

After that first day, Stiles had to go back to school. Jackson was quiet and withdrawn but he looked physically healthy enough. Scott was carrying his inhaler around. Allison did seem to have a strange expression that was not quite concern on her face. Erica, Isaac, and Boyd were not very comforting, but they were a fairly good distraction in school whenever Stiles started getting upset. He managed not to shift. Managing to stay benched through most of lacrosse practice and the entire game probably helped. Scott was pretty upset about his sudden return to playing very badly. Jackson seemed to be enjoying his return to the spotlight, even if he was a little jumpy.

Friday afternoon, Derek was waiting to pick up Isaac and Erica and Boyd, and he suggested that Stiles contract a flat tire so he had a reason to leave his Jeep at home for the full moon. So by the time Stiles’ father got home, Stiles had deflated one of the tires and the spare was nowhere to be found. Luckily the day leading up to the full moon was a Saturday, but it did not seem to hit Stiles as hard as it had Scott.

Just to be safe, Stiles headed out about midafternoon with a dufflebag that had a change of clothes and a toothbrush.

“Where are you going?”

“Play videogames with some friends.”

“Derek?”

“Scott, Isaac Lahey, maybe Erica Reyes,” Stiles said instead. “Figured in case we get caught up, I’d take a change of clothes.” He shook the duffle.

“Okay,” his dad nodded slowly. “Have fun. Let me know when it starts getting late if you’re staying over or coming home.”

“I will.” Stiles grinned brightly at his dad and headed out the door. He turned into the woods at the end of the street. Derek was already waiting for him. “Stalker much?”

“I knew you’d get antsy before too long.”

“Fair. Lead the way, alpha.” Derek’s eyes flashed red as he turned and headed further into the Preserve. Stiles felt a shiver down his spine as he followed.

“How’s your temper?”

“About the same as it’s been all week. Shorter than normal.”

“Good,” Derek turned his head to smile reassuringly. “Sometimes, if you let it get the better of you, it can bother you the whole day leading up to the full moon.”

“Like Scott did,” Stiles muttered. Derek nodded.

“If you’ve still got it under control, then you should have until moonrise before you need to worry.”

“Good. Told my dad I’m playing video games, but somebody’s gotta remind me to text him I’ll be out all night once it starts getting later.”

“Alright. I’ll try to remember.”

“Thanks.”

They walked in silence for a while, Stiles eventually catching up to fall into step with Derek. The forest was full of scents and sounds and Stiles was easily distracted by trying to source all of them. Derek kept grabbing his elbow to keep him from wandering off in the wrong direction, but he didn’t look too upset at Stiles being distractable.

They had been walking for a while before they emerged into the abandoned warehouse district. Stiles tried to avoid this part of town. Nearly all the businesses had gone under or relocated after everything and then the recession. There were scads of factories and business parks, all abandoned like a ghost town. Stiles felt his hackles rise. Derek turned towards him, stopped walking, brows drawn together.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like this place. It’s creepy.”

“I’m sorry. That’s sort of the point, though. It’s not somewhere people are going to accidentally stumble upon us. It is the full moon and I have four new werewolves with potentially no control to keep corralled.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t have a point,” Stiles muttered. He felt his short temper getting shorter. He took a deep breath and half a step closer to Derek. Derek’s cologne flooded in his nose. Stiles’ hackles went down. Derek seemed to notice for the first time. At the very least he was eyeing Stiles curiously.

“Feeling better now?” Derek’s voice was somehow hesitant. Stiles nodded slowly. Derek nodded back. “Good.” He started walking again. Stiles took a minute to swallow down a groan of embarrassment before following.

Derek led him to what had once been a subway depot. There had been plans before the Beacon County economy tanked to build earthquake resistant subway lines throughout the county with a couple lines going all the way to San Francisco. None of the tunnels had been built very far before whoever was bankrolling the project pulled out. It was probably a good choice for their purposes. Erica, Isaac, and Boyd were already there. Erica was fussing with something on her face in a compact mirror. Isaac and Boyd were tusseling like puppies on the floor. Derek chuckled.

“Where have you been?” Erica demanded in a scandalized tone.

“Who’s the alpha?” Derek countered. He waited until she huffed and started to go back to her mirror to answer. “Someone had to go fetch Stiles at some point.” All three of the other betas sniffed the air obviously.

“Oh,” Erica said.

“Yup, still a dog joke.” Stiles tossed his duffle off to the side. “So, alpha, what’s the plan?”

“Sparring lesson.” Well, that wasn’t going to be fun. He was still as uncoordinated as he had ever been.

As Stiles expected, he got his ass kicked. Derek clearly knew what he was doing and he was familiar with his strength. Erica, Isaac, and Boyd were less technically competent but made up for it in attacking with all of their strength. Stiles had always been lanky. He was not used to actually trying to land a punch. He didn’t start fights and the few times he had gotten into one he had mostly dodged. So he got his ass kicked.

Once Derek had knocked the rest of his betas on their asses too, he turned to Stiles. “Has no one ever taught you how to throw a punch?”

“It wasn’t a priority,” Stiles grumbled.

“Come here.” Derek chuckled with a fond look on his face. “This is a necessary life skill.”

“It is not a necessary life skill,” Stiles retorted, even as his feet were leading him back to Derek’s side. Derek put his hand out, palm up. Stiles laid his hand in Derek’s.

“Fist.” Stiles knew how to make a fist for a punch, thumb on the outside. “Good job.” Derek lowered his hand to Stiles’ wrist, repositioning his arm so he looked like he was actually ready to throw a punch. Derek held his hand up, palm facing Stiles. “Hit my hand.” Stiles actually paused before obeying for once. Then he twisted his torso a little to get some torque and aimed for Derek’s hand. The punch connected but Derek barely flinched. “It’s not bad. You aren’t going to break your thumb. You’ve got the torque idea right, and your fist lands where you want it. You’re just not putting any power behind it.”

“What do you want out of me? I have like negative muscle tone.”

“You are a werewolf right now. You’ve got more strength than you’re used to having. Try again.” Stiles took a breath in through his nose and squared off again. He threw another punch. Derek’s hand at least moved, though not much.

“Good enough, we’re done,” Stiles suggested brightly.

“No,” Derek’s tone brooked no argument even if Stiles had been succeeding at not immediately doing whatever Derek asked this week. “Try it again.” Stiles huffed irritably but squared off again. He threw a third punch. This time Derek’s entire forearm rotated back to take the impact. “Again, Stiles. We’re doing this until you get it right.” Stiles felt his hackles rise at the insult. A smirk pulled at Derek’s mouth. Stiles threw another punch and it connected hard. He heard a crack as bone met bone in their hands. Derek skidded back half an inch.

“Oh my god!” Stiles gasped out. “Are you alright? Did I break you?” Derek was shaking out his hand and looked up at Stiles with amusement clear on his face.

“No, Stiles. But I think you’ve figured out how to throw a punch.”

“You weren’t that nice to us,” Erica muttered mutinously.

“You told me you’d taken five years of karate lessons,” Derek countered, turning to face her.

“How was he supposed to know you were lying through your teeth?” Isaac asked. Boyd snickered.

Stiles sighed heavily. “Erica, pro-tip? When someone asks you if you know what you’re doing, and you’ve got no fucking clue, you should probably tell the truth for everyone’s safety.” She just bared her teeth at him. Stiles felt his hackles rise, but he refused to return the challenge. He was going to stay as close to human as possible for as long as possible. Someone had to text his father not to worry about him.

“Erica, stop that!” Derek snapped. Erica turned her challenge to Derek. Derek shifted to glowing eyes. After a moment, Erica closed her mouth and hunched in on herself. The red glow disappeared out of Derek’s eyes. “Alright, can we all try to stay as calm as possible? I know it’s the full moon. I know everyone’s stressed. We’re pack. We don’t need to take it out on each other.”

“Why can’t we be out in the Preserve?” Isaac complained.

“We would at least be able to chase rabbits or squirrels,” Boyd added.

“Because the Argents are batshit insane and would be perfectly happy to remove your head from your neck!” Stiles exclaimed. “Kate, Gerard, Chris, and Victoria all, individually, have body counts in the hundreds. Kate crossed the thousand mark before she died at age 36! Gerard married into the hunting family in his thirties and he’s got to be somewhere north of five thousand by now. Do you want your parents to bury your bodies in pieces?” There was dead silence.

“You said they followed a code,” Boyd accused.

Derek bristled. “I said they had a code they were all supposed to follow. I also told you that the ones who didn’t were the ones in town.”

“We weren’t listening,” Erica murmured. Clearly this was just occurring to her. “That’s why you were so adamant we not tease Stiles about wanting to stay human. None of the three of us really listened to the cons list, did we?”

“You listened; it just didn’t mean anything to you. You didn’t have a frame of reference.” Derek did look a little distressed on the subject despite his tone being even and matter-of-fact. Stiles swayed forward half a step. Derek’s eyes flicked over at the motion but the rest of his attention was on his disappointed betas.

“Maybe next month you could bring a deck of cards?” Stiles suggested.

“I brought one this month,” Isaac said quietly.

“Can we play a round, alpha?” Boyd asked.

“Yeah, let’s take a break,” Derek agreed. “We really do need to get you competent in defending yourselves though. That has to be a priority too.”

“Of course,” Erica agreed dismissively. “Isaac, where’s the cards?” Isaac had already scampered over to where his bag was hidden behind a crate and held them aloft triumphantly.

“I had a plan,” Derek grumbled.

“Bonding’s important too,” Stiles told him. “Otherwise they won’t trust you.” Derek made an agreeing noise. He turned to face Stiles and Stiles turned so they were squared off again. Did Derek want something? Boyd gasped. They both turned to look at him, but he was looking at them and both Erica and Isaac looked fine. Stiles’ brow creased in confusion. He looked back over at Derek.

“What game do you want to play?” Derek was clearly addressing that to everyone. Stiles just shrugged.

“Snap?” Erica suggested.

“Too prone to causing arguments,” Derek shook his head.

“Canasta?” Everyone looked at Isaac in confusion. “Or not.”

“Hearts?” Boyd offered.

“That’s for four people,” Erica pointed out.

“I don’t know how to play anyway,” Stiles said. “So the rest of you can play that. I’ll just watch.”

“You can vary it for up to six players anyway,” Derek said. “But we can play the first round with the same hand while you figure out the strategy. You play ten hands. All the cards are dealt out to everyone. Queen of Spades is 13 points, all the hearts are worth 1 point. The winner is the person at the end with the least points. Some of the hands you get to swap three cards with one of the other players before you start.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Stiles agreed. They all settled in a rough circle, with Derek leaning over Stiles’ shoulder. Boyd shuffled and dealt. He was clearly familiar with the movements because he had a perfect bridge.

“That’s impressive,” Erica teased.

“We play cards a lot when it’s slow at work. You pick it up easy enough.” Boyd sort of shrugged off the compliment. Stiles wondered if he realized Erica was flirting. Maybe he would try to mention it casually at some point when she wasn’t around.

Derek was about as helpful as he was distracting. Even consciously, Stiles was becoming well aware that if nothing else, he was very much attracted to Derek. Derek’s breath on his neck as he tried to choose a card was too distracting for Stiles to even try to be in denial about it. He did try to hide it as best he could. Derek wasn’t interested and even if they lived in some alternate reality where a man like Derek would be interested in a scrawny kid six years younger than him, the age gap between them crossed the age of consent in a way that could permanently ruin Derek’s life. 

The main rules of the game were as simple as Derek had briefly described. But the strategy was a little more difficult. You had to keep in mind which cards were off the board and when to play the higher cards in your hand to avoid getting stuck with points. Even with Derek’s suggestions, Stiles ended up losing the first round. But it was at least only by a small margin. Boyd had been doing far better than the rest of them until the 8th hand where he had somehow ended up with all the cards that gave points. He still managed to beat Isaac by one point. Erica was a few points behind Isaac and Stiles a few points behind her.

After a disastrous attempt by Derek to teach everyone the variation for five players – everyone kept passing their cards the wrong direction and Derek had barely moved away from Stiles’ side so there were frequent cries of cheating and they didn’t manage three hands – they played a few games of rummy.

Then it was starting to get late. Derek produced five large meat lover’s pizzas, one for each of them. They had been in an ice box that was still semi-functional, so they were all cold but no one was complaining about the state of the food when there was food to eat. Suddenly all of them had been starving as moonrise became more imminent. Isaac was the only one who left any pizza behind and then only because he apparently had a moral imperative against eating the crust. The rest of them finished it off for him.

After pizza, Stiles realized that it was probably as late as it was going to get before moonrise while he was still functional and texted his father not to expect him. While normally it would be far too early to make the call, there was a curfew in effect which sort of ameliorated it. His father seemed unsurprised or concerned at least. After everyone had recovered from stuffing an entire large pizza down their throat by themselves, which was entirely too quickly as far as Stiles was concerned (This was where he was drawing his line in the sand – werewolf or not it should take more than a few minutes to recover from that food baby), Derek started up another round of sparring practice.

Although Stiles still got knocked on his ass, he also got in a couple good punches. No one else stood any chance against Derek anyway. It was probably within five minutes that he had knocked all of them to the ground.

“So… anyone got anything less predictable?” he teased. Isaac huffed irritably. Stiles groaned. Boyd just shook his head. Erica set her shoulders. She got up and did a running jump. Derek caught her easily but his chuckle was cut off by Erica kissing him. Derek threw her off of him bodily. Erica flew through the air and skidded a few feet more. Stiles only noticed the low growl in the room, forget that it was coming from him, when he realized everyone was looking at him. Derek looked like he had been hit with a tree trunk. How dare she?

“You don’t kiss people like that!” Stiles snarled. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Erica for once did not growl back. She just stared at Stiles in shock. “Nothing to say for yourself? Why am I not surprised? You have apparently turned your damn brain off since you got the bite.” Erica gasped but still didn’t say anything.

“Stiles,” Derek chided. He stopped growling. Derek looked almost surprised. “While I appreciate your concern, I can fight my own battles and that really didn’t warrant that level of aggression.”

“Sorry,” Stiles muttered. Derek just nodded acknowledgment.

“That being said, Erica, please for the love of God don’t try that again. On anyone. That is only appropriate when picking your boyfriend up from the airport after a long trip. When I said less predictable, I was still talking about sparring moves.” Erica blushed scarlet. Isaac burst out laughing. Boyd was still looking at Stiles. Which was vaguely off-putting.

After that, they tried another round of sparring, but something had shifted in Stiles’ consciousness already and it was hard to pinpoint exactly what had happened in what order. Stiles was pretty sure that he’d broken Isaac’s nose when Isaac ducked Derek’s arm only to run into Stiles’ fist that had been aimed at Derek. But whether that was before or after Derek had gotten Boyd in a headlock, and either events’ relation to Erica sweeping her leg around and causing Derek to stumble a bit before he regained his balance were a complete mystery.

At some point Derek had herded them all into the subway car to restrain them while they were all still relatively coherent. Although Stiles remembered sitting quietly at Derek’s side for a while, and Isaac also staying fairly calm, nothing was entirely clear. It was like trying to recall what had happened at the hospital after his mother had died. He had been aware of everything happening at the time but afterwards the memories were indistinct and full of holes.

The following morning, Stiles woke up snuggled on the hard ground between Isaac and Derek. Erica was sprawled across half of Boyd’s chest who was on Isaac’s other side. They were a puppy pile. Stiles smiled at the thought. Then he nearly groaned aloud. His everything was sore. Oh, he couldn’t hear anyone’s heartbeat anymore.

“You alright?” Derek asked, voice still muzzy with sleep.

“Not a werewolf. Hard ground.” Derek made some sort of sound in response and pulled Stiles so he was lying across Derek’s chest like Erica was on Boyd’s. Although Stiles was now hyper-aware of each of his limbs, this was slightly more comfortable than the ground. It wasn’t too much longer before everyone was waking up. Stiles was glad not to be the only one who was sore when Isaac had to twist around until his spine cracked and Erica had to massage out a crick in her neck.

Everyone was quiet and awkward in the morning light. Derek was attempting to ask everyone how they felt but no one was giving much of an answer. Stiles quickly changed into the fresh clothes he had brought and brushed his teeth. He was going to head home.

“Sure you won’t get turned around?” Derek asked.

“I’ve got a compass in my phone,” Stiles assured him. Derek would have to take care of his betas and Stiles did not want to wait.

He got home within a couple hours, which was still mid-morning. His father did not seem to have had any concerns about where Stiles had spent the night, which was a relief. Stiles tossed his bag upstairs and got started making some breakfast. He was starving.

It was only after he ate that Stiles remembered that he had forgotten to ask Derek about the werewolf eye colors. Dammit!


End file.
